


Countdown Timer

by Yergink



Series: Colorless [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions, Pocket Monsters: Black 2 & White 2 | Pokemon Black 2 & White 2 Versions
Genre: Coffee Shops, Gen, Manipulation, colress thinks ghetsis is dumb as hell, do not copy to another site, dont read this for shipping, enemies pretend to be friends, you wont find any
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22123270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yergink/pseuds/Yergink
Summary: A megalomaniac and a scientist discuss evil plans over coffee and cheesecake. It goes about as well as you'd expect.ORHow Doctor Achroma joins Team Plasma.
Relationships: colress & ghetsis
Series: Colorless [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596157
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Countdown Timer

**Author's Note:**

> i. like colress. i would like there to be more works centered around him.  
> i call him achroma in this fic because i think it sounds better dont @ me

In a rooftop cafe in Castelia City, Doctor Achroma waits patiently for his coffee to arrive. He sits alone at a window side table, his chin resting in a delicate hand as he watches the movement of the crowded city streets below. 

Achroma is an accomplished young pokemon researcher, who has rapidly gained fame in the recent months, and who is known well by the general public for his papers discussing the nature of a pokemon’s strength. His name is often passed around university circles, and his work in recent years has only caused him to have an even greater public presence.

This is how the waiter at the cafe recognizes him, setting down his ordered cup of dark espresso with a shaky hand. Achroma gives him a smile, and the waiter works up the nerve to ask in stumbling words if the doctor would look over some of his notes for him. 

“An up and coming researcher, are you?” Achroma asks. 

“Yes, sir,” the waiter replies, holding the platter he’d delivered the coffee on tight against his chest. “And your work has just been such an inspiration.”

As he draws the cup closer, Achroma responds amusedly, “So I’m told.”

He goes silent for a moment, turning back to the window and gazing at the skyline. The waiter’s knuckles clench tighter around the platter, gut churning in a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Then, Achroma laughs. It’s abrupt enough to startle the young server. 

“You know, the person I’m meeting with was supposed to be here ten minutes ago,” the doctor drawls, producing a red pen from a pocket and setting it down next to his cup. “I think I have some time to kill. Do you have your work with you?”

Almost dazedly, the waiter nods, hurrying to the back room to fetch his notes. 

* * *

The bell above the cafe entrance chimes. It is the third time it has done so since he has arrived, and Achroma does not look up. 

He can hear one of the wait staff flustering over the new customer, who grumbles rather loudly, “I’m meeting someone here. You don’t have to seat me.”

“Sir, please--”

“Out of my way.” 

A short yelp bursts from the attendant as the cafe’s new arrival shoulders past her. Achroma can just see it over the top of the notebook he’s holding. He sighs, knowing what’s next. 

Ghetsis slides into the seat opposite Achroma, immediately clattering his cane against the table and hissing, “I believe I requested we meet somewhere more discreet.”

Indeed he had. But Achroma had figured that allowing Ghetsis to choose the location of their meeting would give him a little too much control of the situation. Plus, he was bound to pick somewhere creepy, and no matter what anyone said, Achroma prided himself in having standards. 

In response, he simply hums, eyeing Ghetsis over. “Well, to be fair, I didn’t realize you’d be coming looking like _that_.”

Ghetsis’ outfit is what Achroma would not-so-lovingly refer to as a ‘Manic Cult Leader Uniform,’ complete with high collared cloak and elaborately decorated cane. It seemed almost as if he _wanted_ to be clocked as a former Team Plasma leader. Not that regular clothes would have done much to hide his identity anyway, with a face like the one he had. 

Achroma gestures to his own attire: a sleek black turtleneck and gray slacks. “It _c_ _ould_ have been discreet. If you’d taken a bit more thought.”

Instead of trying to refute Achroma’s smug comment, Ghetsis just scoffs. “It’s fine. Can we get to business now?”

Achroma taps his pen to his chin, looking down the page before him. “We can. Just as soon as I finish looking at this.” 

“Excuse me?”

The sound of the pen scratching is Achroma’s only reply. Ghetsis slams a hand onto the table, and the force of the blow causes the doctor’s coffee to spill from its cup and for his pen to slash a jagged line across the paper. 

“This is important business, Doctor,” he sneers. 

Silently, Achroma puts down the notebook and reaches for a napkin, mopping up the spill. “I had to wait nearly twenty minutes for you to arrive,” he informs Ghetsis, his tone frigid. “So you’re going to have to wait a little while for me.”

Ignoring how his statement leaves Ghetsis fuming, Achroma resumes his reading. In the end, it only takes him a minute more or so. A ridiculously short wait time for Ghetsis to get so fussy about. 

When he’s finished, Achroma caps his pen and sets it down, waving the server over once more. Nervously, the young man approaches the table. 

“What did you think?” He asks, clearly anxious about the doctor’s response. 

Achroma hands it back to him, and says, “It’s a solid start, but you need to step out of the hypothetical and put some of your theories to the test. Other than that, I can see that you certainly have a lot of passion for your research, and I'm sure you'll be able to find success."

Practically beaming, the young man stammers, “Thank you sir!” He marvels at the page for a moment, as though he’s been handed some sort of prize rather than his own notes. 

It’s only then that he seems to notice Achroma’s companion. He turns to Ghetsis, pencil ready, and asks, “And, um. Can I get you something?”

“You have cheesecake?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That, then. And make sure it’s cold.”

The waiter nods, jotting it down before scurrying off, leaving the two men alone. Achroma sips his coffee. 

“I didn’t take you for a cheesecake type. Always thought you were more into danishes,” he comments. 

“It’s been years, Doctor. You think my tastes have all stayed the same?”

“I suppose not,” Achroma muses. 

A brief bout of silence descends upon them, broken when the waiter arrives once more with the cheesecake. When he sets it down, Achroma can see it is chilled enough that the top is coated in a sheen of ice crystals. Ghetsis does not thank him for it, and the waiter takes his leave. 

“Can we get to it now?” Ghetsis asks with poorly concealed impatience, picking up his fork and cutting into the slice.

Achroma has never seen anything more ridiculous than the overwhelming figure of Team Plasma’s former leader delicately eating a slice of cheesecake. He smiles in amusement and pretends it’s agreement instead. “Of course. With pleasure.”

Ghetsis swallows a bite of cheesecake before speaking. Achroma’s eyes follow down his throat. 

“Now, I’ve gotten together nearly fifty of the old members. A great number were taken in by police, but I believe that we can begin recruitment again. With a little rebranding, it won’t be difficult. Of course, there is nothing that can be done about our runaway sages, but I believe…”

Slowly, Achroma’s eyes begin to glaze over as he listens to Ghetsis spew statistics about membership and plans and incomprehensible ideology. He realizes, quite suddenly, that he honestly couldn’t care less about the activities of a failed cult, and there were plenty of other things he’d rather be thinking about. 

For example, as he watches Ghetsis speak, he finds his gaze trailing down at the half-eaten cheesecake, where the ice coating has begun to melt, moistening the surface. He thinks of a recent event he’d heard about, where an ice type trainer had developed hypothermia from prolonged proximity to his pokemon. He figures that you could craft an effective freezer from just the use of a few ice types, and then realizes that the idea probably wouldn’t fly with most manufacturers.

He glances outside, where the light of the midday sun reflects off the tops of skyscrapers, coloring them white. A flock of pidove fly by, chattering and cooing. One of them nearly grazes the window. Achroma thinks about how the top recorded speed of a pidove in flight is 92.5 miles per hour and wonders if there was a way he could increase it. 

“Are you even listening?” Ghetsis asks suddenly, pulling Achroma out of his thoughts. 

_Not in the slightest,_ he thinks but doesn’t say. Ghetsis is glaring at him now, his one good eye narrowed and suspicious. Achroma takes his time answering, allowing himself a sip of coffee before cracking a reassuring smile. “Of course, my friend. And you’ve brought up several fantastic ideas,” he says and nods, as though he has any clue what nonsense the man in front of him has been rambling about. While his response is somewhat thin, it seems to do enough to convince Ghetsis, who calms and settles back down with a grunt. It appeared he’d gotten so worked up at the possibility that Achroma hadn’t been paying attention that he’d actually _risen from his seat._

“Good. You always were a bit of an airhead, so I just had to make sure,” the villain grumbles. 

Achroma doesn’t even waste his time thinking of a comeback to that one. Although, he does find Ghetsis’ needlessly emotional reaction amusing. He wonders idly how in the world Ghetsis came so close to becoming the most powerful person in Unova when he clearly had no capacity for complex thought. 

In fact, he doesn’t know much about Team Plasma’s first attempted takeover at all. He’d been traveling in Sinnoh at the time, and now that an entire two years had passed since the event, it seemed like most of Unova were hesitant to speak on the subject. 

Before he can spend too much time following that train of thought, Ghetsis says, “And I assume you’ve thought over my proposal?”

Ah, there it was. Finally. The reason Achroma had agreed to this meeting at all. 

“I have,” he starts, carefully. “And I can’t express how intrigued I am by it. I mean--” he lowers his voice, leaning over the table. “Capturing Kyurem? _Using_ it? As a _weapon?_ You know me too well, old friend.”

“I figured you would be interested. Yes, that is the plan. And you’re the only person I know who I believe would be able to do it.” 

Achroma hums. “Yes, I believe so too. It’s not something any self-respecting scientist would want any part in.” 

“It’s very lucky then, that you have no self respect.” 

Achroma laughs. “Well, no respect for the ethics of science, at least.”

He pretends to think for a moment, as if he didn’t already know exactly what he was going to say.

“And, as Head Scientist, I assume I would have full reign to do whatever I want with Kyurem? As well as the other captured pokemon?”

Ghetsis chuckles. It’s a dark, scathing sound. “Oh, yes. About that. I don’t want you to be Head Scientist, my friend.”

“No?” 

“No.” A malicious grin crosses Ghetsis’ face. “I want you, Doctor Achroma, to _lead_ Neo Team Plasma.”

Out of everything else, that’s what startles him. His eyes widen, and Ghetsis looks incredibly self-satisfied at having caught him off guard. 

“Leader of Team Plasma, huh,” he considers the sound of it. 

“It would suit you,” Ghetsis offers. “You’d have free reign of the entire operation. No limits as to what experiments you can conduct. As long as, of course, you also work to forward the overall goal of the team…”

“So you would, what, lead behind the scenes, then? Make me a figurehead?”

“Not quite. No figurehead this time. I’m not repeating my failures.”

Achroma doesn’t know what he means, but he decides it doesn’t matter. This opportunity was a good one. It would certainly suit his needs. Of course, he understood what Ghetsis was doing. Always ready to throw the blame onto someone else. But Achroma was smart. He wouldn’t let himself be so easily duped. 

He’d take the bait and use Team Plasma, and by extension Ghetsis, for as long as he so desired. And then, once he’d tired of his playthings, he would see to it that the team was destroyed, and Ghetsis put away. 

It would be easy. 

He smiles warmly, extending a hand. “Alright then, old friend,” he says. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://yergink.tumblr.com/)


End file.
